


Yours

by chambermusic



Category: Assassin's Creed, Assassin's Creed: Syndicate - Fandom, Assassin's Creed: Syndicate - Jack the Ripper DLC
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 05:24:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5444819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chambermusic/pseuds/chambermusic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She kissed Jacob softly on the hair. Some words went unsaid, but she was certain Jacob knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yours

**Author's Note:**

> A hurt/comfort that happens after AC:S Jack the Ripper DLC. Warning for spoilers! Took a lot of inspirations from this Chinese fic "Family Man" (http://selfmissing.lofter.com/post/1688b1_9498a61). Go read it if you can!
> 
> I simply had to write something before going back to finishing my other fics. I wasn't 100% happy with it, but I hope it's a worthwhile read.

It started in India, when Jacob and his little apprentices came to train amidst the forest favored by the monsoon. Nearly all of them had already left, home-bound on the ship _Kellie Castle_ , save for the scrawny lad he called Jack and Jacob himself. They were running lapse, on the stony rooftop of the Indian Brotherhood, practicing throwing rope launcher mid-running. The kid skidded on a piece of ancient tile, but the rope connected--almost taking him with it. Jacob, however, caught his shoulder in time and _pulled_. The outstretched rope recoiled, whip-like, leaving a sharp crack in the air.

The kid swore at the top of his lungs: "Why ya caught me, _Scum_!"

 

It was not exactly the language that disturbed Evie. Hardly any kids raised in Whitechapel were not prolific in it. Clara, who was all pleasantries most of the time, had shown Evie on multiple occasions just how proficient she could be in the profane. It was more the way Jack had said it-- _the heat and malice behind his words_ \--that brought Evie to a stop.

Jacob, on the other hand, seemed either completely oblivious, or completely accustomed, to it.

 

She caught him later that afternoon, before they and the photographer Henry hired were to travel to the temple of Kali. Jacob was crouching over his desk, fiddling with Jack's miniature version of the rope launcher gauntlet (they don't have a technician on site at the Indian brotherhood, Jacob apparently 'learned a few tricks' from Aleck before he left).

Not quite sure how to start, Evie offered: "Jack seems prone to harsh language."

Without even taking his eyes off from his project, Jacob dismissed her with a roll of shoulder. "He didn't mean it."

"I don't know about that, but either way it's something with him that we ought to address."

That, at least, earned her Jacob's attention. He tilted back in his chair, eyeing her suspiciously. "It's just how he is, " he said. "Why don’t you give the kid a break?"

"A break? It's a discomfiting trend of behavior since before he was even here--"

"--and times before he had cried in my arms, and said he was SORRY!"

The last word was delivered with a little too much force. For a moment, Evie wondered whether it was their prolonged separation that made Jacob seem so foreign, all of a sudden. But just as soon, something clicked in her, so she said instead:

 

_"--It's all about father, isn't it?"_

" _WHAT_?" Jacob shouted, incredulous, but Evie was undeterred.    

"You let him stay even when the other kids left. You taught him all the tricks you learned on the streets. He's obviously your _favorite_ ," she said, "he is foul-mouthed and quick to ire. He is _you_. He is you when we were with father--"

"--and somehow, you are trying to prove you'd be different."

 

Even as the words were rolling off from her, Evie could see that something clicked in Jacob as well. Something that looked so much like Jacob's old anger, but now sharper around the edges. The line of Jacob's jaw clenched firm, his eyes a shade darker than she remembered.

"--and isn't it just the same with you," He lowered his voice, but nevertheless had the look of someone delivering an ultimatum, "why we can't fucking work together anymore."

"What are you going to do about it?" she called him out, "threaten to run out of India right now?"

Evie was surprised then, when Jacob schooled his body still, when the old Jacob would have pounced. He clenched tight, for what felt like a minute, then his entire face shut down.

"--We are not going to talk about this anymore." He said, and his voice commanded an authority she had never known from him. Evie stared at him, hard, in a moment of complete silence. Moments later, she acceded.

Jacob stood up and turned away, pretending to adjust his coat. He asked with a forced briskness: "why do we need to dress like sodding Londoners for the picture? It's boiling outside."

The complaint had no heat behind it, but Evie could appreciate a truce when she was offered one. She managed a shred of humor herself:

"You can dress light. That is, if you are willing to part with that hat."

 

* * *

 

Year 1888, Jacob sat in their joint lodging staring outside the second-floor window. He suffered multiple stab wounds, came close to losing an eye, and had his right leg broken completely. The first thing Evie did after sorting out the mess was to find them new lodging in a quieter neighborhood, and Jacob had not objected to any of her decisions.

She chose the loveseat across from him and sat down. They remained in companionable silence for a while. Outside the birds chirped, their little choir heard through the closed windows. It was Jacob who broke the silence.

"I guess it _was_ all about father," he said.

For a moment Evie didn’t know what he was talking about, but then she remembered, and found herself at a loss of words.

"For years I tried to do everything different, tried to be the opposite of him. But it didn’t matter, did it? I never gave Jack anything he wanted or needed, never understood him. And the entire brotherhood bled for it."

"My protégé hated me," he raised a hand to cover his eyes. Seconds later, it felt as if his hand was the only thing propping him up. Evie was afraid to speak, as if another voice right now would shatter something within him.

"How funny, I used to fantasize about father apologizing to me: him saying how wrong he was about me, and how sorry he was for it."

"--I guess that's what he wanted, too. For me to admit that I've wronged him and betrayed him. I'm not sure whether I've given him the pleasure. I don't even remember anymore."

Jacob looked away at that. Then he grimaced, and caught his face in his palms.

"--I feel sick for myself."

 

Evie extended an arm and softly, laid her hand on his. They sat for half an hour more, her stroking Jacob's hair, wordlessly, until the birds had left and daylight passed. From where they sat the whistling of a tea kettle could be heard from another floor, a baby squealed, and her mother came to comfort her with a soft cascade of cooing and murmur. Evie found Jacob listening, and she smiled a little at that.

 

"When Alisha was just born Henry and I thought we would die from exhaustion," Evie said, "she would wake five times in the dead of night, ate next to nothing, and woke us up in a couple hours just the same."

"Tell me about it," said Jacob. Sometimes it was easy to forget Jacob was a father, too.

"Oh I fell asleep feeding her once, apparently, and dear Henry made sure I was always reminded of that."

Her brother laughed a short laugh that was closer to a sharp exhale, and fell quiet. Evie, however, continued.

"You should talk to George. He loves sharing stories about how father used to juggle the two of us like a circus act, changing diaper for one while holding on to the other, only to end up with the other of us crapping over his hand."

At that, Jacob finally gave a full-throated laughter. "For the record, I'm the one that crapped over his hand, isn't it?"

"George never said."

He stared up to the ceiling, the mirth on his face fading slowly. Evie kept looking at him, face intent.

"How did we get here?" Jacob asked absently, "this terrible wrong I've done?"

"You cannot blame yourself for him," She said finally, putting her hand on his forehead, "We call our family our own, but they can never truly be ours, but their own individuals. We pray and we strive to understand them, but we cannot, not fully, when we don't share a mind or a soul."

Her brother stared up at her. The green eyes that she had not seen in years were moist in his private moment of weakness.

"--but between us there is loyalty and love. And that would be enough."

 

She kissed him softly on the hair. Some words went unsaid, but she was certain Jacob knew-- _Forever together. Forever affectionate. Forever faithful. Yours._

 


End file.
